


Soundtrack

by Winterstar



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Fluff, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Howard as the bad guy, Hurt Tony Stark, M/M, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-20 22:43:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6028177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterstar/pseuds/Winterstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The doctors told Steve he would never have a soulmate and would never hear his Soulsong. He went about his life, and tried not to think of it. Then everything changed when he went to a party and ended up bonded to Tony Stark...</p><p> </p><p>  <i>They touched then, touched and their Soulsong surged between them - a great symphony of sound and music, the pulse of their lives, their souls together. For a long moment, Steve gazed at their entwined hands. He knew he would never let go, not ever. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Soundtrack

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time in YEARS I have written anything in the past tense. It was a trial and error process. So please forgive if I slipped up and went back to the present tense!

“Just,” Bucky said and shrugged a little with that smirk he always gave Steve. “Come on, Stevie. Let’s just go to the party tomorrow and see.”

“You can go, I have work to do,” Steve replied, because he was not going to get pulled into one of Bucky’s schemes to see the hot redhead with the glare that could kill the toughest men around campus. 

“I can’t go alone, what if something happens to me?” Bucky said and placed a hand on his chest like he might have a heart attack if he went to the party all by his lonesome.

Steve tossed his pencil onto the drafting table. It was a small table, a child-sized drafting table that he’d gotten at the Goodwill for a song. Steve loved it; he didn’t care that it was tiny, that his knees hit the bottom of the desk, or that the lamp had a tendency to swing around and hit him in the head while he was working. The table happened worked for him and the space he lived in. 

“I am not going so you can make a fool of yourself, again,” Steve said and crossed his arms over his thin chest. He coughed – and thanked the student health insurance that it wasn’t the wet and raspy one he’d had last month. It took two rounds of antibiotic to get rid of that bout of bronchitis. Of course, it didn’t help that he’d been allergic to the first one they prescribed. Allergies – the gift that kept on giving. 

“I just want to talk to her,” Bucky said. “Come on, Stevie, you can do this for me. You owe me.”

He eyed Bucky and frowned. Except for the fact that Bucky literally saved his life every other Tuesday and sometimes on Wednesday because Steve fell ill with the change of the winds, that statement was not true.

“Why, why do I owe you?”

Bucky snickered and raised an eyebrow as he knocked Steve’s arm. “Stark.”

Shaking his head, Steve got up and walked across their tiny third floor flat. Technically their apartment was the attic of a two story house. Each story was a three bedroom apartment and the attic should have been as large. The landlord had converted part of the attic into a storage space and the front part of the attic into a small apartment that consisted of a coffin sized bathroom, a galley kitchen, a closet sized bedroom and a living space that Steve swore he could probably lay across, stretch his arms over his head and touch the walls. They traded off who got to sleep in the bedroom and who had to bunk on the two seat sofa. Steve tried to take the sofa as often as possible, considering he was shorter and while his feet still hung off the end, he wasn’t quite so uncomfortable. 

“Stark doesn’t count, you didn’t have to do anything to save me from Stark,” Steve said and headed into the kitchen. The baseboard heating rattled and banged but resulted in little warmth. Even in the third floor he froze in the winter. He filled up the kettle and then set it on the gas stovetop. Switching it on, he turned and folded his arms. 

“Sure I didn’t,” Bucky said. “That’s why you begged me to run defense when we were at the Student Union the other-.”

“He’s been trying to get me to do the art for his stupid Mind Games Race, he’s having with Pym. I’m not interested.” Steve went to the cupboard and, on tiptoes, reached up and got out his favorite stars and stripes mug. 

“I don’t see why not,” Bucky said. “He’d pay you. He’s like the richest student on campus. Did you know that he paid his tuition and his friends’ tuition, too? And that’s friends with an S, plural. It wouldn’t hurt you to get to know him. He might like you.”

“I’m not a charity case, Buck.”

“You don’t even know him,” Bucky replied as he stood at the entrance to the galley kitchen. 

He blocked most of the light from the living room, so Steve flicked on the bulb over the two burner stovetop. “I know enough.”

“You never even met him face to face,” Bucky said. “Maybe you’d like him, maybe he’d be your soulmate.”

Steve gagged a little, and now he did think he would start another coughing fit. “Just stop, Buck, I’m not interested in meeting Stark, and no, I didn’t need you to run interference for me. I can handle myself; thank you.”

Bucky slumped against the wall and said, “What do I have to do to get you to help me out here.” Not answering elicited a groan from Bucky. “Come on, Steve. I need some help here.”

“She’s not your soulmate, Buck,” Steve said. “Give it up.” He opened the canister on the counter and pulled out a teabag. “You would have gotten your Soulsong if she was. Just let it be.”

“I haven’t actually touched to her yet to know,” Bucky said. “She could be the one. I could finally get my song and my power. Do you know how fucking useless I feel? Everyone else has their power.”

“Not everyone,” Steve muttered and poured the water.

“Steve, you know I don’t mean it,” Bucky said and stepped up to Steve. He squeezed his shoulder. “Come on, don’t be like that.”

Steve dunked the teabag a few times. He always melted with Bucky. Bucky had always been there for him. Through his continual battles with illnesses, his mother’s death, even the Soulsickness that plagued him. 

Soulsickness was something most people steered clear of – even though it had been proven years ago that it wasn’t communicable. Being scarred in early life because of his ill health caused the Soulsickness and the doctors theorized he’d never hear his Soulsong. He’d be powerless his entire life, powerless and weak. 

Sometimes at night, when he listened to Bucky snoozing softly in the other room, Steve got up from the sofa and padded to the single window looking out to the street. He gazed in the silvery light and imagined he heard the sounds of his soul, felt the power of his own talent as it ran through him. It would never happen, though. As a victim of Soulsickness, Steve would never find his soulmate and would never have his Soulsong revealed to him. The powers within him would lay dormant forever, if there had ever been any power at all. 

Someone unhealthy like him – the doctors considered it a sign of Soulsickness. Health and wellbeing of the physical body grew from the strength and power of the soul. 

“Fine, I’ll go, when is it?” Steve said. He hadn’t meant to relent, but Bucky had always been his weakness. 

“Tomorrow night, you promise you’ll come with me?” Bucky said.

“Seriously, dude, I don’t know why you need me to come with you. It isn’t like I’m a good conversationalist or anything,” Steve said. “All I’ll do is sit in the corner and wait for the party to be over.”

“No you won’t, Jan and Sam will be there,” Bucky said. 

“Great,” Steve said, and now he didn’t want to think about it. A party was the last thing that Steve wanted to deal with at the moment. “I have to get back to work.”

Even though Steve moved past Bucky and went back to his drafting desk, his friend hung around waiting and watching him. Steve ignored the persistent bug in the room until he couldn’t anymore and threw his pencil down. “What?”

“You know, you might find someone if you went out of the flat now and again,” Bucky said.

“I go out. I go to work, I go to class,” Steve replied and flipped the pages of his sketch book. 

“Going to drop off your sketches or to class doesn’t count,” Bucky said and picked up Steve’s pencil. “You could find someone.”

“Not according to the doctors,” Steve said and snatched the pencil out of Bucky’s grasp. “I’m all wormed up and sick inside.” 

“Wormed up, you think of that yourself?” Bucky said.

Not to be deterred, Steve opened the sketchbook and showed Bucky his newest creation. “I call him Soulboy, pretty neat huh?”

“Geez, fuck, that’s scary?” Bucky grabbed the pad and frowned. “This ain’t how you see yourself, is it?”

The sketch was exactly how he saw himself. He understood Bucky’s disgust, the skeletal man with entrails of worms curled up on himself in an alley. “This is what I am Bucky.” Steve picked the pad from Bucky again and settled back on the stool. “Just go, I have work to do.”

Bucky shuffled to the bedroom door, peering over his shoulder as Steve tried to pretend not to see him. The attempt clearly didn’t work. “Stevie, I – you know I’m family, right?”

When Bucky said things like that, Steve’s anger, frustration, and ill-conceived ideas about himself disintegrated and he saw more than himself. “Yes, Buck, I know.”

After, Steve spent hours working on his class assignment. It wasn’t going well. He had a series of different word prompts from which he needed to draw thematic figures that would tell a story. He loved to read comics and fantasy novels but he couldn’t muster the ability to create a storyline that didn’t dissolve into some kind of tripe. 

Hours later, tucked on the corner of the sofa with his laptop balanced on the arm, Steve skyped with his other best friend in the world – Peggy Carter. 

“Steve, you need to just sit down and draw. Think of the word and draw something.”

He screwed up his face as he stared at the screen. “Everyone always thinks it’s so easy,” Steve said. “It isn’t, you know. Creating something from scratch-.”

“Yes, yes, we know. It’s a labor of love, grown from the soul. You’ve always been so dramatic. Steve, just let it come out of your soul. Let it take you,” Peggy said.

“That would work if I had some kind of soul,” Steve muttered and shook his head. “Maybe I should just drop the class. The professor is some kind of cross between a werewolf and an army rat. I have no idea what hole he crawled out of.”

“Stop it with the self-pity, Steve,” Peggy said. 

“It’s not self-pity, Peg, if it’s true.”

She rolled her eyes and dragged a blanket from the foot of her bed. “We need to get you out of that apartment. You need to talk to people and stop listening to doctors.”

“Bucky is forcing me to go to some party-.”

Jumping up, Peggy knocked her computer and it tumbled away from her. She cursed and then hauled it over to her again. “A party? Really? Steve, that’s wonderful.”

“It’s awful, Peg, You know I don’t do well at parties,” Steve said and slumped back on the sofa. “People always ask – always about my Soulsong.”

“Just tell them it is some kind of sick symphony or something,” Peggy said and smiled at him. “I really wished it’d been me, you know.”

“Yeah, me too.” 

Steve forced away the ache that grew in his chest every time they recalled that moment. He’d met Peggy in a stairwell of all things. He’d been climbing the stairs for his class and she’d been in front of him. He happened to look up and see her ankles of all things. For some reason, it just knocked him for a loop and he went into an asthma attack right there. She turned around when she heard him fighting for breath, grabbed hold of him and helped him to the landing. She’d been stronger than he would have guessed. Her hands on his chest, holding him, she flicked her eyes up to meet his gaze as he struggled for breath. Everything stopped in that moment – he thought for one beautiful second the doctors had been wrong – but the notes he heard, the notes tried. They flailed slowly at first, growing in intensity, and he glimpsed the light of recognition in her eyes as she heard it, too. But the measures of music in his head, in her head faltered as they tried to merge and became discordant and off tune.

They pushed away from one another, awkward, spent, and cold from the experience. He didn’t even know her name then, but she broke with protocols that said discordant Soulsongs shouldn’t intermingle, and she stayed by his side. She’d introduced herself, even offered her hand.

When he took it, she smiled and said, “This might be the start of a beautiful friendship.”

Grateful, appreciative, and melancholy described how he routinely felt about Peggy. Yet, she was his guiding light in many ways. He often went to her for her wit and wisdom. She sparked everything inside of him that he’d always been afraid of touching.

“So invite me to the party,” Peggy said.

Lost in his thoughts, he mentally staggered back to the conversation. “What’s that?”

“Go ahead and ask me. I want to come, too.”

“Are you sure, it will be boring.”

“Steve, only you would say a party will be boring. Where is your sense of adventure? Come on, now, ask me?”

He huffed and shook his head, but he agreed – at least she’d be there to back him up, or throw him to the wolves. “Only if you promise to run interference if Stark is there.”

“Really, what do you have against Tony Stark? I met his father a long time ago. He was in London and my parents were invited to some important meeting. I don’t recall why I was there, but I met Howard Stark – shook his hand and everything. You do know, his father is a dick.” 

Hearing words like that come out of Peggy’s mouth always caused a little hiccup in reality. He didn’t even know why – just because she had the voice of a princess didn’t mean she always acted like one. Peggy had always been tough as nails. 

“Stark is an ass; he probably takes after his father.”

“You don’t even know him,” Peggy said. “Have you even spoken to him?”

Truth be told, Steve spent most of the last week hiding out and trying not to be found by Stark’s henchman. Sometimes Steve wished he went to one of those huge universities, or a state school. But the Academy gave him the largest scholarship, they even made concessions due to his status – Soulsickness. Not a lot of schools would do that for a potential student. The dean, Nick Fury, kept telling Steve he had a lot of latent power. Of course, everyone thought that Fury had some kind of shadowed magic, his abilities had warped him physically. His power had led to his one eye clouding over. Everyone on campus said it occurred because of his dabbling in the occult. Steve didn’t trust him, but at least Fury and the assistant dean, Coulson, believed in him. 

“-might have some skills. Hey, are you even listening to me?” Peggy said and jerked Steve back to reality. She sighed and said, “I’m signing off. I’m coming with you to the party, when is it?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“Fun, wear something sharp. I’m introducing you to Stark.”

She didn’t allow him the chance to rebut her declaration because she shut down the connection immediately. He stared at the empty screen and frowned. He should go to bed; this whole day culminated into a throbbing headache. Being plagued by migraines was his lot in life, due to the Soulsickness. It felt like his mind kept reaching out, searching for its mate, his song, but couldn’t quite make it there. He imagined his life, going through it with the constant ache, the want, and knowing he would never get there. Some people were just defective. 

He shut down his computer, placed it on the table next to the sofa, and settled down to sleep. He groaned when he thought of what Peggy said. Introducing him to Stark. 

“Gah,” Steve growled. “Why me?”

Stark was an enigma to Steve. He appeared on campus with paparazzi following his every move. It must be horrifying, but Stark seemed to revel in it. He goaded the press, posed for the press, even shouted out quotes for them to use. Once in a while, Steve saw him taking selfies with reporters. Steve didn’t know why it rankled him so much. Someone with so much power and prestige should use their influence for something good –not parties and races. 

For Steve, his direction and hope for his part in the world revolved around the idea that he could do good, change the world, stop bullies, the whole nine yards. He wanted to do good, that’s all he wished all of his life. Being Soulsick put a damper on that because not a lot of people wanted to hang out with someone defective. 

Of course, then there was Stark. Apparently, he’d been in some accident. According to all the websites and headlines, he’d nearly died. His heart – well, whatever heart he might have – had been damaged and he had been nearly dead when they found him three months later. Rumors said he had been abducted; but there wasn’t any evidence to prove it. The press never discovered where Stark had been, or what really had happened. 

In the end, Stark left the big name tech school and ended up at their little private college in the wilds of Upstate New York. Unfortunately, whatever his intentions had been, the media followed him here. Steve couldn’t venture anywhere on their secluded little campus without bumping into someone who had connections or wanted to have connections with Stark. 

He could not understand why Peggy and Bucky and just about everyone else thought it was a good idea that Steve meet Stark – Stark was a walking disaster waiting to happen. Or whatever. Grumbling, Steve turned over, threw the blanket over his head, and went to sleep. 

The next day only served to build up the anxiety and the general apprehension Steve always experienced before a big outing. Having Soulsickness was one thing, having people ask questions – a whole other story. First came the - _have you heard your Soulsong yet_ , then the _oh no, it will happen soon_. Of course when Steve confessed to them that it would never happen for him, the disgusted, fearful look on people’s faces had turned him into a veritable recluse. Who wanted to deal with that?

Anytime he went to big gatherings, his soul ache jumped up several notches and the headaches that plagued him exploded in severity. He popped a few of his prescription pills, though he knew they wouldn’t touch the pain. Hope springs eternal, he supposed.

He managed to get through his two classes and back to the flat without so much as a boo from anyone. Bucky had left early in the day for his class schedule. Steve didn’t work today, so he stayed put in the apartment and dreaded the final hours before the horror of the party was upon him. Peggy appeared at their door by five to check on his outfit, saying he was hopeless and going through his tiny wardrobe with disapproving eyes. Bucky, who’d come home early, only snickered in the bedroom and threatened to disrobe in front of her several times.

What he loved about Peggy was that she never blinked at his overtures. She only waited, with a hand on her hip, for Bucky finish with it. Sufficiently cowed, he backed off and focused on getting dressed for the party himself. 

“Too bad, would be nice to get a glimpse of all that,” Peggy said and turned her attention back to Steve. 

Steve startled at that, but Peggy put a finger under his chin and pushed his mouth closed. “Catch flies that way, dear. Now go get dressed, I picked out your clothes.”

He knew not to cross Peggy so he followed her orders and gathered up the clothes she’d laid out. Once Bucky finished dressing, he escaped into the bedroom and quickly donned the clothes. They weren’t his Sunday best as his Ma would call them, but his one good pair of jeans with a pale blue (or so he’d been told) polo shirt. Most of what Steve usually wore included old jeans and t-shirts. He had a few hoodies for cold days, and a jacket, but that was it. 

Once dressed, Steve left the bedroom only to find Peggy teasing Bucky. He smiled at her, because she was the only person able to set Bucky so off guard. Steve pressed a hand on his shirt, and then pointed his toes. “Does it match?”

Peggy peered over at his socks. “Not perfect but it’s good enough. Get your shoes, we’re going to paint the town.”

Bucky groaned at her, but she grinned and waited for them to finish up. Steve found his sneakers under the sofa and sat down to tie them on. Sitting on the edge of the couch, Peggy said, “I’m excited, are you?”

He glanced up at her and tried to smile. Peggy with her beautiful hair, lovely shape, and perfect skin – she dressed in a classic dress that would probably be a bit out of line considering they were all going to a student party. But at the same time, everyone expected a higher level of behavior from Peggy. She held herself in such a dignified manner, everyone that knew her would have bowed to her if she demanded it. And she never did, that’s what made her so sweet.

“What color’s your dress?” he asked as he tightened his laces.

“Red like blood,” Bucky answered as he re-entered the room after grabbing his own shoes. “She’s going to suck all my blood out one day. She’s a vampire.”

“I’m afraid that won’t happen, James, especially since I don’t ever intend on giving you fellatio,” she snapped and Steve couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Yes, very funny,” Bucky said. “Next time I ask you out, I’m going to have to specify no fifth wheels.”

“Really?” Steve stood up and tugged on his jacket. “You only asked me to go so that you could have backup when you get devoured by the redhead.”

“Redhead? The plot thickens,” Peggy said, her eyes flicked between the two of them.

Bucky folded first. “Natasha, I want to meet her. I got invited to the party at the house she rents by her roommate.”

“Roommate?” 

“Clint Barton,” Steve answered for Bucky. “Do you know him?”

“Not sure?” She picked up her coat from where she flung it on the end of the couch. “Weedy guy always hanging out in the trees?”

“Yep, that’s him,” Bucky said. “I think he might be my competition.”

“Can’t be,” Peggy said as she opened the door. “He heard his Soulsong last month.”

“What?” Bucky clapped his hands and beamed at her. “Really?”

She paused before exiting. “Yes, that’s what I heard. Someone named Laura, I believe?”

Bucky knocked Steve in the shoulder and said, “You can ask this girl along any-.” He stopped at punch of the solar plexus from Peggy. “Ouch.” He gasped and rubbed at his upper abdomen. “Why’d you do that?”

Peggy glared at him and then looked to Steve.

“Let me explain how to talk to a woman,” Steve said as they headed down the stairwell. 

By the time they made it across campus and into the short side street where the house the party was at resided, Bucky spent most of his time eyeing Peggy and muttering about understanding women.

“Seriously, Buck, how do you manage to go on any dates without me?” Steve asked.

“Not to be too crude here, but have you seen these baby blues, have you seen these muscles,” Bucky said and put on a show of it on for both Peggy and Steve. 

As they approach the house already teeming with a crowd spilling out onto the front lawn, both Steve and Peggy were laughing and holding onto one another because of Bucky’s antics.

“Well, at least I can be her clown,” Bucky said.

Peggy smirked. “At the least.” 

They pushed through the people and headed up the steps to the loud music filtering from indoors. Steve scowled but followed his friends into the two story house. Immediately he was assaulted by sounds, lights, and the general claustrophobia of a mass of people. He swallowed back his anxiety as he feel the vibrations of not only the music but of those seeking Soulsong mates. He hated the feel of it. It only served to remind him about everything he could not have.

Once inside, he lost sight of both Peggy and Bucky. He called for them, but he couldn’t see over the heads of the people dancing in the living room, or yell over the music, the games flashing across the large screen television, or the conversations. Somehow he found a bottle of beer slapped into his hand and he wandered around the smoke filled house until he ventured upstairs and ended up outside on the deck. 

He would have gladly spent the next several hours hanging in the corner on the lounge chair, huddled in his jacket to keep warm, but soon after he found the spot – others appeared on the deck as well. 

It didn’t take long for him to recognize Hodge and his oafish demeanor as he backed a girl into the corner next to Steve’s lounge chair. Because he was in shadow and there was little light in the backyard of the house, they mustn’t have seen him. Trying to steal away from the intimate scene, he crawled off of the lounge and around the foot of it. He’d nearly escaped but then he heard the young woman.

“Hodge, come on, I didn’t say-.”

Steve paused.

“Yeah, Darcy, you know you want it. Look at you, all dressed up for it,” Hodge said and pressed Darcy further into the corner.

Steve peeked out from behind the lounge. He knew Darcy from one of his art classes, and Hodge – everyone in the small college knew that ass. When Steve zeroed in on Darcy’s face he spotted distress and fear, nothing like desire or want. He climbed to his feet, stepped up to Hodge, and poked him in his shoulder. At first, Hodge only hovered over Darcy, slobbering on her with his kisses.

Struggling, Darcy tried to dislodge him, but failed. Steve grabbed hold of Hodge’s shirt and yanked as hard as he could. Hodge grunted and, with one hand on Darcy keeping her in place, turned to face Steve.

“What the fuck, you a peeper or something. Get out of here little boy,” Hodge said and shoved at Steve.

Not willing to back down especially when he got a clearer glimpse of Darcy’s distressed expression, Steve stood his ground. “No, you get out. The lady isn’t interested.”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Hodge said and released Darcy to focus his attention on Steve.

With a quick nod to Darcy, Steve faced the bear of a man. “I said, the lady doesn’t want your attention.”

Darcy watched for a moment, but Steve gestured for her to get away. She dashed under Hodge’s arm and slipped through the door back into the party. 

“Looks like I was right,” Steve said with a lift of his chin to indicate the empty space Darcy had vacated.

“You son of a bitch. You cost me a good fuck, now you’re gonna pay,” he said and advanced on Steve. 

“Try and make me,” Steve hissed back and scanned the area for any type of weapon. If getting into alley fights and playground battles had taught Steve anything at all, it had been to arm yourself well. Unfortunately, he only spotted an old dented garbage can lid in the corner of the deck. He scooped it up and Hodge bellowed with laughter.

“Good one, you fuck.” He advanced on Steve, flexing his fingers into fists and glaring as if he discovered prey. He swung but Steve slammed the lid upward and blocked the thrust, but the undercut bashed into his gut with enough force it caused him to stagger.

Fumbling he tried to bring the lid up to shield his face but Hodge predicted the move and kicked the lid out of Steve’s hand. Steve never knew how to stand down from a fight. It wasn’t in him. Not now, not the dozens of times in the past when Bucky told him to just sit down and surrender. He didn’t and he wouldn’t. He launched his fists at Hodge in a fury of motion, but not one did any damage. It fended him off for a moment, and pushed Hodge away. His strategy failed in the end because with one powerful, huge fist Hodge planted a bruiser on Steve. It impacted against his nose and cheekbone so much that he stumbled and collapsed in a heap. 

“You still have to pay me for losing my chance, little man. You got it in you to-.”

“To what?”

Through a daze of pain, Steve blinked and tried to focus on who might be breaking up their fight. He had always been so used to it being Bucky, that for a second he had a hard time believing it wasn’t Bucky. He saw a guy, another student, who was probably only a few inches taller than Steve standing with sunglasses on and a smart suit jacket.

“Well, you gonna share?”

“Get out of here, it’s none of your business,” Hodge said.

“Seems it might be, doesn’t look like you’re playing cards.”

Steve groaned and clambered to his feet. He swayed a little but held onto the railing to right himself. Hodge reached out and grabbed Steve, hauling him to his side as his nose bled down his face. He curled an arm around Steve as if they were a couple. It turned Steve’s stomach and he tasted bile. 

Scrubbing his hand through Steve’s hair, Hodge said, “Get out or you looking for some, too?” 

Steve recognized his savior now. His night could not get any worse.

Tony Stark. 

He stood there with a cigarette hanging from his lips, his sunglasses dark in the falling night. Only the spark of cigarette reflected in their lenses. 

“Well, I think I’m right,” Tony said and then plucked the cigarette from his lips. “Looks like you’re going for a ride.”

“What?” Hodge scoffed. “Make me.”

“Thanks for the invitation,” Tony said and rushed at Hodge fast enough that the bigger man hesitated in shock and then released Steve in order to defend himself. But it was already too late, Tony used the cigarette ashes to blind Hodge and then kicked him in the belly so hard he bent over. With that, Steve picked up the garbage can lid and smacked Hodge in the head, hard enough for it to rattle all the way up his arm. 

Hodge fell down, groaning. That’s when everything went too fast for Steve to really follow. It felt like someone sped up a movie. Suddenly Tony Stark grasped his hand and they were running, down the stairs, through the horde of dancers as the music thumped and the lights flashed. Tony dragged Steve out of the house and they ended up a half dozen houses away, under a streetlamp, panting and stopping to catch their breath.

The movie slowed down then, but the music – the music he’d been deafened to because of all of the chaos and the fight crescendoed around him and he startled. He looked around, but the houses they stood in front of were quiet, with only a light on in an occasional window. The song didn’t travel through his auditory nerves. It was his nerves, it was his core, his blood, his veins, his skin, his muscles, his tendons, his brain. 

He jerked his hand away from Tony’s and staggered a few steps away. 

“Tell me you heard that,” Tony said.

“Wh-what?” Steve said and put his hands over his ears. 

But Tony was right there, pulling his hands down and the music started again. It came from inside, it touched and it grew. It provided shelter and contentment. The song, it meant everything to him. It was massive and beautiful yet soft and lovely. It became his definition. He realized then it was always his definition.

“Well,” Tony said. “That’s one lovely tune.”

Their hands lingered together as the music continued. He wasn’t supposed to have a song, he wasn’t supposed to have a soulmate. The doctors said due to his illnesses, his Soulsickness, his soul couldn’t sing. There was no music for him at all. There was nothing at all.

“You heard that?”

“I’m hearing it now,” Tony said and raised an eyebrow. He reached out and wiped the blood from Steve’s nose. His voice turned soft, almost caring. “Did he hurt you?”

Steve would have been insulted and pissed, except he stared at the blood on Tony’s hand – a droplet so perfect and beautiful that his brain stuttered like a car stalling out. He tried to kick it into gear again, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t get any fuel to move his mouth or get his brain to process anything.

“Hey, you okay?” Tony said and wiped the blood on his shirt as if the stain wouldn’t matter. 

“The blood?”

“Yeah? That’s your blood. That usually happens when you let big goons try and come on to you,” Tony said.

“What?” Steve said and yanked his hand away. The music stopped and the cold of the night crept in. “I didn’t let him do anything. He was trying to – well, he was trying to take advantage of Darcy.”

“Bastard,” Tony said and peered over his shoulder at the house. “You want I get the police here.”

“No,” Steve said and raised his hands. “Just want to check on Darcy and then go home.” He bit back his lip, trying to pretend that his voice was shaking. 

“Whatever you want,” Tony said. “Oh and I’m Tony Stark.” He offered his hand again, this time Steve hesitated, yet he wanted it more than he could explain. He took it and the music began again. Beautiful and sonorous. It filled his senses. He wondered how he would ever get anything done again with this music in his head. 

“Steve Rogers,” he said. He wanted to know more, he wanted to know why, but then the overwhelming need to escape overcame him. “I have to go.” He tore his hand away and the music skipped and ended. “I have to go.”

He dashed away, running from Tony and ignoring the holler of his name. He was ashamed he didn’t go back and check on Darcy. Instead, he disappeared through the rows of houses and had to climb a fence. He fell flat on his face and started the nosebleed up again, but he didn’t care. He needed to get away, far away. By the time he stumbled to his flat, his lungs wheezed and he clutched onto the railing of the stairs like a man fighting for his life, clinging to a life preserver in the rapids of a river. He fought to climb the stairs, yet by the time he entered his apartment, the threatening asthma attack quieted without any medicine at all. He tossed his inhaler to the table and went to the bathroom. 

He looked in the mirror. The smear of blood still stained his face. RED. “That’s red.”

His hands trembled as he dabbed at the mess on his face. He brought his hand away, staring at his fingers with the red like a blessing painted on his skin. He found his soulmate, he heard his Soulsong. Somehow it already changed him; it cured his colorblindness. But it also meant. 

“I’m going to get my powers, my magic.” His heart thrummed in his chest, hard enough that it hurt. It felt like he’d been throttled and battered as if he’d ridden the coaster at Coney Island too many times. 

Maybe his power would just be seeing colors, maybe it would be just that. But to him that would be wonderful. Not all people ended up with strong powers, enhanced senses, sensitivities, telekinetics, telepathy, or even other magic. Most people weren’t fortunate enough to go through a transformation. Most people simply found their soul in another and their lives changed. They had their powers that were small talents. Nothing earthshattering. Perhaps, Steve had his power now. Perhaps, his Soulsong gave him the ability to see in color like everyone else.

As an artist, he would never wish for more. This was enough. 

He sat down on the floor of the bathroom because his wobbly legs couldn’t hold him up anymore. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe through the growing panic. It wasn’t a horrified feeling, but one of hot anticipation. Like when he’d been offered the chance to interview for the scholarship for college. The excitement and fear wrapped up and sent him on a asthma attack that lasted on and off for hours. He’d nearly had to go to the hospital for that one. 

But this – this was different. This was something that made him whole. His soulmate was out there.

His soulmate was Tony Stark.

His eyes opened and widened. “Holy shit.”

The very thought of Stark, Tony Stark, being his soulmate ran through his head like a battering ram. What was he supposed to do with that? How does that even work? How could someone like Tony Stark own a piece of Steve’s soul? 

“What the-.” He stopped and stared helpless, fog brained, at the tiles of the tiny bathroom. He supposed he should get back to the party, talk to someone, talk to Peggy or Bucky. As if on demand, his phone – his old flip phone the only kind he could afford rang in his jacket pocket. He tugged it out and saw that it was Bucky. “Yeah?” 

“Where are you? I have to tell you something – I -.” Breathless, elated and crazy – that’s how his voice sounded. Steve felt the same, but tried to smother the feelings welling up inside of him. “She’s it, Steve. I know I know that you can’t. But she’s it. She -.”

“Wait, what?” Steve said and somehow found his feet again and stood up. “Bucky, you’re not making any sense.”

“Natasha, she’s my soulmate. I heard the song, we heard the song. She’s perfect. I think I’m in love.”

“You can’t be in love, you only just met her. I doesn’t work that way.” It didn’t. Steve knew this, he read enough books about soulmates to know that it was a piece of your soul you were attracted to, not necessarily the person’s soul. 

“She’s perfect. I’m sorry, Stevie. I gotta go. Oh and I think Peggy found hers, too.” He paused and cursed under his breath. “Sorry, Steve, I don’t mean to brag.”

“No, no,” Steve said and felt delirious with all the information and possibilities. “I’m happy for you, I am.”

“You are? Really?” Relief washed through his voice. “I love you, Stevie, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know. I – I wanted – have a good time.” He shut down the connection and then grabbed the edge of the sink. Hanging his head, he inhaled and exhaled a few times. Damn it, this was not going to be easy. “Whatever is?”

He bent down, turned on the cold water, and splashed it on his face. It chilled him and he shivered, but he didn’t know if it was because of the cold or because of his soul stretching out, yearning to sing. “Damn.”

He dried his face, tore off his pants and shirt, and dressed in sweats and a t-shirt. Going back to the living room, he went to the couch and laid down. Staring at the dark ceiling above, the play of light from the cars going by captured him. He tried to memorize the details so he could draw it someday. But that only brought him back to the beauty of red…so many colors and ideas to think of and to be discovered. It was too much and not enough. He ignored his phone as it rattled and begged him to answer. Instead, he went to sleep, dreaming in color. 

When the sun brightened the room the next morning, Steve stretched awake and groaned. His body felt tight and ached. Of course, he rubbed at his face. No pain from the clobber to the face from last night. Why did his muscles ache? He inhaled. Inhaled again. He came awake in startled jerk. 

He breathed fully, easily for several minutes. “What the hell?”

Breathing had never been an easy task. What others took for granted, Steve struggled and fought for on a daily basis. His asthma had always been the tip of the iceberg. Repeated bouts with pneumonia scarred his lungs and led to lifelong issues. Yet, today he felt like he could run a marathon – not only run but a marathon. He tugged the blankets away and stared at his legs. He puzzled at the fact his sweats look like they belonged to a child. When did they shrink? 

“Huh,” he said. Standing, he immediately collapsed back to the sofa. Something was wrong, really wrong. He stood again. “What the hell?” The whole world seemed wrong, off-kilter. He glanced down at his legs. “I feel taller.” He was twenty – did he have a growth spurt overnight? 

He scratched at his chest and startled again. That seemed to be the reaction of the day. This time he made a little yelp as he looked down at himself. 

The bedroom door swung open, hit the wall and then ricocheted back. “What? What?” Bucky stood there with his bat in his hand. “Who the fuck are you and what did you do with Steve?”

“Bucky?” Steve said and surveyed the room. He didn’t know what was going on. He felt taller, he looked bigger. He ached all over like his muscles had been stretched all night long. 

Bucky crouched but came at him with the bat clutched in his white knuckled fists. “Who are you?”

“Steve, Steve,” he said and put his hands up. “I swear to God, Bucky, I’m Steve.”

“Steve?” Bucky said with a little squeak at the end. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

He pointed the bat as if it was a rifle at Steve. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I don’t know, I don’t-.” He raced to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, and then tore off his shirt. “What the hell happened to me?”

“Steve, did someone mojo you, magic you or something?” Bucky said, still wringing the bat in his hands. 

“Would you put that down?” Steve said and pushed it away from his face.

“Oh, yeah, but no, I still don’t know what’s going on. What are your intentions?” Bucky said and wielded the bat as if he might swing it.

Steve caught it, yanked it out of Bucky’s grasp, and cracked it over his knee. This time Bucky did cry out. “What the fuck?”

“Bucky, it’s me.” Steve knocked on the mirror in the bathroom. It was his face, but stronger, fuller. He was still him. “It’s me.”

Bucky waved his hands in front of his face and said, “This isn’t freaking you out. What the hell happened, Steve? You were smaller, much smaller.”

“I don’t know what happened,” Steve replied and couldn’t help but stare at his hands, his hands that weren’t his hands as he gestured. He kept distracting himself and he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and growled. “Gah, I’m me, Bucky.” He dropped his hands. “I don’t know what happened.”

Bucky calmed a little as he watched Steve’s frustration ratchet up. “Okay, okay, let’s figure this out. Whatever this is.” He poked at Steve a few times. 

“Hey, ouch that hurts.”

“Just checking,” Bucky said and then hooked Steve’s wrist and brought him back to the living room. He planted Steve on the sofa and paced back and forth in the room – which would have been comical considering how small the space actually was – except for the fact Steve wanted to join him as his anxiety about the whole situation exploded. 

“Okay, when did this happen?”

“Sometime during the night?” Steve said.

“Are you asking or do you know?” 

Steve shrugged. “I went to bed normal, I got up like this. I can only imagine it happened during the night.”

“Did it hurt?”

This stopped Steve. Did it hurt? He woke up aching and feeling like his muscles had been stretched taut and then beyond their limits. “A little bit?”

Bucky glowered at him. “Okay, forget that. Anything unusual happen to you last night?”

This was where he was supposed to tell Bucky he heard his Soulsong, but he wasn’t even sure that was real now. Maybe he had a fever and he imagined the whole thing, including current events. “I got in a fight?”

“I said unusual,” Bucky said. He paused his pacing and folded his arms. “Come on, think. Who did you fight with? Maybe he put a curse on you.”

“I didn’t get cursed. It was Hodge and he’s the most untalented people I know,” Steve said and tried to get up but the scorching look from Bucky kept him seated. “What do you want me to say? That I magically heard my Soulsong, found my soulmate, and bam, I found my power as – I don’t know - I became a superhero or something?” 

“This isn’t natural, Steve,” Bucky said. 

“Well, I have Soulsickness, you never know it might be a manifestation of some part of it,” Steve said. “The doctors told me to be prepared for -.”

“To become Adonis? Because that’s what you look like,” Bucky said and ran his hands through his long hair. “I cannot believe you’re not more upset with this.”

“I think seeing red last night kind of prepared me for anything.”

“Wait, what? You mean like in you saw red because you were angry, like that saying. Or you actually saw the color red?”

Steve pressed his lips together and diverted his gaze.

“Oh fuck, you saw the color. You’re not colorblind anymore?”

“Hmm, no?”

“Stop answering all my questions with more questions,” Bucky said and threw out his arms. “Why the hell am I bothering? You know what, figure it out Steve. Figuring it out. Natasha wants to go out to breakfast. Get to know me.” He stomped off to the bedroom. 

Steve sighed and then went to lie down. The sofa was too small. “Shit.”

“Now you’re swearing?” Bucky yelled from the other room. 

Steve slumped down into the cushions, placed his enormous feet on the arm of the couch, and waited for Bucky to leave. When he did, Bucky threw him a look as if Steve had betrayed him. Before he left, he stopped at the door and said, “Steve, figure it out, or at least tell me what happened.” He didn’t look at Steve before he exited.

Laying on the couch, Steve put his arm over his eyes and wondered what the hell was going on. “If this is what happened to me, what the hell happened to Stark?”

Was this the extent of it? Would there be anymore? Does he have any special powers? It wasn’t like he could slink around campus to try and find out. Everyone would see- he stopped.

“No one would see, no one would think I’m Steve Rogers,” he said. “Not even Bucky thought I was me.” That sounded weird, but it was essentially correct. He needed to get dressed – he stopped again. “Maybe Bucky has some clothes that would fit me.”

Eventually after digging through all of Bucky’s clothes, Steve found a pair of jeans that must have been slightly too long for Bucky, and a t-shirt. The shirt cut under the arms, and threatened to rip across his pectoral muscles. He retrieved his hoodie, that still fit, though very snuggly. 

“This is ridiculous. How am I going to afford a whole new wardrobe?” He said and stared at his shoes – they were not going to fit. But thankfully, Bucky had big feet and while the extra pair of running shoes he possessed had a stench akin to a zoo, beggars couldn’t be choosers. He found his old baseball cap, adjusted the head size, and put it on, brim down to hide his face.

His attire notwithstanding, he left the apartment to hunt down what clues he could find. By the time he got to campus he discovered a buzz humming through everyone at the Quad and in the student union. It was clear something was up. He bought a coffee and sat in one of the torn pleatter chairs near the large wall sized windows that looked out at the Quad. He sat and listened.

At first, nothing he heard made sense but then it all started to brew and boil together like a concoction made by the witches in MacBeth. 

_Solar Flare_

_Record numbers_

_Soulsongs amplified_

Since he didn’t own a smartphone, Steve was relegated to hunting down what it all meant. Maybe this wasn’t permanent, maybe he really hadn’t heard his Soulsong. Maybe he was as destitute and sick as the doctors had once condemned him. Eventually, his coffee turned cold but when he made a move to leave, a small petite hand appeared on his shoulder and pushed him back into his seat. 

Plopping down across from him, Jan smiled and said, “Who is it?”

He tried to play it cool. “Sorry, who are you?” He kept his face turned downward with the brim of his hat covering his eyes.

“Give it up, Steve,” Jan said and yanked off his hat. He went to grab for it, but she flittered it about like a bumblebee. “Come on, it happened and I want to know who it was.”

Finally catching hold of the hat, he grabbed it. “How’d you know?”

She ticked them off on her slim, graceful hands. “Well, Bucky came in and told me that you grew like ten times your size. The solar flare thing happened, and then here you are looking like a Greek god.” She smiled and blinked a few times at him.

“What solar flare, what happened?”

“You tell and then I will inform your sorry little no-smartphone tight butt,” she replied and angled her body as if to get a glimpse of his ass.

“Hey,” he said and felt blood rush to his face. This was great, now instead of being ignored, he was going to be ogled. 

“Give it up, Steve. Tell me who it is?”

“First, explain the solar flare thing?” He sounded desperate, and not a little bit terrified. Did he want this transformation to go away? The colors were fantastic, and mesmerizing. The ability to breath without getting winded from simply walking across campus was downright exhilarating. It made him want to run and run and run. 

She took pity on him and smiled. “Okay, well, the Soul Astronomers have been checking the universal thingy, I don’t know. It has something to do with the sun and the soul, you know. Anyhow, there was a series of flares in the last week that culminated into some intense soul radiation? Is that what it’s called? Sounds poisonous to me. But what happened was that it affected all the souls on Earth. You know like penguins were sleeping with whales, giraffes fawning after lions, the whole nine yards.”

“What?” Sometimes talking to Jan was tiring at best.

She laughed and it sounded like silver bells ringing. “Silly, what I’m saying is that it intensified the Soulsongs. It helped to bring people together. People who wouldn’t actually be at a place their soulmate was ended up going to the store, or attending a town hall meeting, or going to a party?” She winked at him. “Now, tell me?”

“It really worked that way? Does that mean I won’t hear it again, that it will all go away?”

“I knew it! You did hear your Soulsong yesterday, you did meet your soulmate,” she said and bubbled in her chair. She held onto the arms of the chair, lifted up to tuck her legs underneath her, and then sat down again. “Tell me, tell me, who?”

He rolled his eyes. “Only if you don’t say a word.”

She put a finger to her lips and then crossed her heart.

“Tony Stark.” The words weren’t out of his mouth when he heard a voice from behind him.

“The one and only.”

“Damn it,” Steve said and hung his head. He could not catch a break today. A hand on his shoulder and then Tony Stark notched his leg up onto the arm of the chair.

He leaned down and looked at Steve. “Well, you turned out a lot better than I thought. Look at that. I have a wonderful influence on you.”

“Shh,” Steve said and Jan giggled in the background. He glared at her and then faced Tony. “Could we go somewhere and talk?”

Tony glanced at Jan, gave her an air kiss, and then grabbed Steve’s hand. “Come on darlin’, let’s go make out.”

With surprising strength, Tony hauled Steve to his feet and dragged him away from Jan. When Steve turned to make a plea for help from Jan, she only smiled and waved as if she knew exactly who had been hanging around him in the first place.

“Wait, where are we going?” Steve said and stumbled. His new body didn’t work exactly like the old one.

“This way, my sweetcakes, this way,” Tony said and made no motion to slow down. He towed Steve toward the main science building on campus which were a far cry from where Steve spent his days. They went into the large atrium of the building and then Tony proceeded to bring Steve to what he called ‘his lab’. It ended up being slightly larger than a broom closet in the basement of the building. 

There were no windows. A lab bench and a few computers that even Steve probably could afford sat at various stages of disrepair or repair – Steve couldn’t tell which at all. One computer did have a screen and a list of white numbers on a black background scrolled past.

Tony closed the door behind them and locked it. Steve didn’t know whether to be nervous, terrified, or disgusted. Because through it all, the walk across campus, the jog down the steps to the lab, and now as they stood there, still grasping hands, Steve had been paralyzed by the beauty of the music he heard.

He did manage to speak. “I’m not making out with you.”

Tony jerked in response. “No, Winghead, you’re not. But we have to figure out what happened?”

“Winghead?”

“Your hat has wings on it, like a little emblem on the side,” he said and then scrunched up his face and waved his hands. “Let’s keep on track here. You heard it, too?”

“Still hearing it now,” Steve said and didn’t know why he suddenly relaxed. 

Tony exhaled and they both sat down on the only two stools in the room. “So this happened to you?”

“Yeah, it’s not like I normally change to this on every other Sunday of the month, you know.” Tony screwed up his face again at his reaction. Steve had to admit, he was snappish and thick with anger. He put up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, it’s just that I’m a little upset and confused.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t have to contend with this,” Tony said and opened up his jacket and then took it off. He proceeded to pull off his shirt even as Steve protested. His complains died in his throat as he saw the glow on Tony’s chest. 

“What the hell is that?” 

“Watch this,” Tony said and put his hand down by his sides the light intensified, spread down his arms to his hands and he hovered over the floor. 

“Gah, you’re flying.”

Tony closed his hands and he dropped to the floor. “Technically, I’m levitating, don’t know if I can fly just yet.”

“But wow, that’s pretty neat.”

“Neat?” Tony said and picked up his shirt. “Watch this.” He turned to the wall and abruptly a beam shot out of his chest and charred the wall. It stopped as he staggered backwards into Steve’s arms.

“Wow, that’s unbelievable. That has to be one of the most powerful abilities, I’ve heard of.”

“Yeah, right?” Tony said and shook his head. “I have to get rid of it.”

“What? Why?” Steve would have thought someone like Stark would enjoy the power, gloat in the power, the ability to fly and explode things. His father was a weapon’s manufacturer after all.

“Listen, maybe we shouldn’t. It doesn’t look like you got anything other than Adonis materials anyhow,” Tony said.

Steve clasped Tony’s shoulder and he went to put on his shirt. “I don’t know. It might be it. But what’s the problem? What’s going on?”

Tony turned his face to the shadows. The dark of the small room covered his expression and, except for the blue light coming from his chest, Steve couldn’t make out the details of Tony’s face. 

“You heard, I suppose about my disappearance?”

“Yeah, everyone did. It was all over the news for months?” No one knew what happened to Stark. Even the FBI was befuddled and had no answers for the media.

Tony slumped down onto the stool. His shirt hooked onto his finger, forgotten. “It was my dad and his partner. I told them I wasn’t going into the weapon’s manufacturing business. I told them I wanted to change the company when it was finally mine.”

“They didn’t like it?” Steve said and kept his voice low and gentle. He even reached out to hold Tony’s free hand. The music played softly in the background.

“No, not at all. We had a lot of discussions, a lot. Then they turned to threats, cutting me off from the money, all that jazz.” Tony inhaled and then exhaled in a great heave. “Then they had me kidnapped.”

“What?” Steve clutched onto Tony’s hand, squeezing it. The music intensified and Steve thought distractedly – having his own movie soundtrack was going to get annoying.

“Yeah, they’ll deny it. They’ve been denying it to the FBI. But they did, and they had me – they tried to convince me otherwise for months. And it wasn’t with tea and cookies. I came out with a heart condition, they hit me so many times, they bruised it.” He rubbed at his sternum right where the glow illuminated his chest.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve said.

“If they find out I can do this, if they find out I have the power inside of me to blow up things,” Tony said and winced. “They’ll have me dissected. They’ll abduct me again, experiment on me, and I’ll never come back. Never.”

“Tony,” Steve said and grasped both of Tony’s hands in his own. He didn’t even know Tony Stark all that well. Hell, he only really met him last night. He found himself caring, and caring deeply about the young man in front of him. “You don’t have to go back to them. They never have to find out.”

“They check on me every week. Stane has some of his goons come over to my apartment. I have to produce a certain number of weapon designs a month in order to keep my freedom. The press that follows me – aren’t press – they’re my dad’s henchmen,” Tony said and stopped. He swallowed loud enough for Steve to hear it. “The goons, they check over everything. Make sure I’m making progress on the weapons designs. They rough me up a bit, and then leave.”

“Damn it,” Steve said and the need to protect and defend Tony rose in his chest as if he had the light and the power seeded within him. “That’s not going to happen anymore.”

“You don’t get it, Steve,” Tony said and released his hold on Steve. “They’ll hunt me down, they’ll do anything. Howard’s deranged, nuts with his power. Some people get sick with it you know. Some people it changes. He drinks, he follows whatever command Stane wants.”

“Okay, okay, slow down,” Steve said. “I don’t know all the players, but we will figure this out. You can stay with me. We’ll figure it out.”

“Stay with you? Really?”

Steve could not believe the difference in demeanor in Tony. He almost – almost saw the realness in it. “Yeah, you stay with me. I have a postage stamp sized apartment. You won’t like it, but you can stay with me until we figure something out.”

Figuring something out had been easier than Steve thought because Bucky essentially moved out to live with Natasha. They were as thick as spies together, hanging out, touching all the time. Sometimes Steve would catch a tenderness come over Natasha’s expression when she thought Bucky wasn’t looking. It softened Steve’s view of her. Because Bucky left the apartment, Steve invited Tony in and gave him the bedroom. 

That didn’t last long. Tony insisted that Steve have the bed because he was bigger and Tony liked to as he said, ‘curl in a ball to sleep anyhow’. It was true. One night, Steve woke up to find Tony sleeping in the bed with him, curled up across the mattress as far as he could get from Steve. He thought about waking Tony, but then recalled the ordeal he’d been through. The fear and anxiety couldn’t be good for anyone’s mental health, especially knowing your own father would go that far to hurt and manipulate you. Steve didn’t like it, so he laid back down and ignored that Tony slept soundly across from him in the bed. 

By morning, Tony had moved to the sofa again and Steve stayed quiet about his discovery. Over the course of the next week, Steve would awake at night to find Tony in the bed with him. He didn’t care and he found it naturally sweet and it brought a kind of wonderful warm glow inside for Steve. To know that someone like Tony wanted him – Steve – as protection. That wowed him beyond anything else in his life. He’d always wanted to protect and serve. Now with this new body, he could. 

“You know, if you need me to walk you to class or anything?” Steve said as he slathered jelly on the bread for a sandwich. “I could do that. Just to keep an eye out.”

“Nah, that’s okay. I can call Rhodey or Jane. She’s got a huge soulmate. He’s as big as a mountain. His name is Thor, believe it or not,” Tony said and munched on a bowl of generic Frosted Flakes. He talked around the spoonful he shoved in his mouth. “Sorry I’m eating you out of house and home. Pepper’s trying to figure out a way to get my money. She should be able to, since I turned eighteen last May.”

“You’re only eighteen?” Steve said and dropped his knife. He scooped it back up and rinsed it in the sink. “I thought you were a graduate student?”

“I am,” Tony said and left it at that. He stared at his smartphone, scrolling through the text messages. He flicked back and forth between his messages, twitter, and the news. “Looks like the media thinks I’ve gone rogue or gotten abducted again. Howard’s staying quiet because he’s pissed I won’t answer his messages.”

“It’s only been a week.” Steve put the peanut butter and jelly sandwich together and sliced it. He tucked it into the baggie and put it with the drink and the apple in a brown paper bag. “Here you go.” He placed it on the table next to Tony.

“What’s this?”

“Your lunch, I noticed you weren’t bringing a lunch to campus with you the other day. That can’t be good. I know you can’t access any of your money right now.”

“I’m not a kid,” Tony said and his tone clearly rang with insult. 

“I’m not saying you are,” Steve said. “I’m just saying that you should eat and not starve yourself. Not a big deal, I was making one for myself anyhow.”

“You don’t have to do this, because I know you don’t have the money,” Tony said and pushed the bag away.

“I want to do it, the sandwich is already made,” Steve said and nudged it back to Tony. He settled down on the chair across from Tony. “I can afford to feed my soulmate.”

Tony looked up from his phone and then placed it next to the empty bowl. “What are we going to do about that?”

“About what?” Steve had thought that being soulmates wasn’t something that you did anything about – except maybe get to know one another, figure out if it was a romantic bond or a friendship one, and then kind of enjoy one another for the rest of your life. He’d never really given it much thought beyond that because he didn’t think he’d have one.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Tony asked.

“I’m not even sure what you’re asking,” Steve said. “Listen, when I was a kid, before all this – you saw how I looked. I had Soulsickness. The doctors said I would never live past ten, and then when I did they said I would never have a soulmate because I was soulsong deaf.”

“And you believed them?”

“Well, they were right about a lot of my ailments,” Steve said. “What else was I to think?”

“Doctors in the Soulsong science are freaks. They have no idea that Soulsickness is impossible. Unless you live in a deep dark cave and never see the sun, then you will have it. You need the solar radiation like a damned plant to keep the soul alive and well.”

“But what about-.”

“It’s called solar synthesis and it produces the waves that interlock souls. I don’t have a piece of your soul inside of me, I have a soul that essentially synchronizes with yours.”

“So they sing together,” Steve said.

Tony nodded. “Yeah, that’s it. It has to do with the photon source of your soul. You thought string theory was bad, you should study soul theories.”

“Wow, is that what you study?” Steve asked.

He gave a little chuckle. “No, none of that, I don’t have the patience for magic and soul stuff. It’s a lot like understanding psychology. I study clean energy. We need to clean up the Earth and clear out the fossil fuels or the idea of Soulsickness will become a reality. The sun can do so much for the Earth and for people, but the problems in the atmosphere are just going to cause all kinds of new interference.”

“I’m sitting here and I don’t understand half of what you’re saying, but damned if it doesn’t just-.”

“Yeah, I know,” Tony smiled and it was bright and warm and charming. Steve bowed his head so that he could hide the blush, but Tony called him on it. “It’s nice to see you’re interested.”

“I am.” But Steve kept his eyes to his hands in his lap.

“Nice to know that it’s about you and me, and not you and me and my money.”

Steve cringed at the statement. His harsh thought about who Tony was before they’d actually met stung. He wanted to come clean but before he said anything Tony continued, “You probably listened to all the media crap about me before, I’m glad you gave me a chance.”

“I shouldn’t have prejudged you. I didn’t even know you. All I knew was that you had your friend Pepper coming after me to do all the design for your Mind Games Race or whatever it was called,” Steve said.

“Yeah, I didn’t know you at all. Everyone told me you were the best on campus, but that you were some kind of recluse. Or something. I didn’t even think to ask you myself,” Tony said and he reached out on the table, his fingers creeping closer to Steve. Steve offered his hand, and they touched, allowing the music to play quietly between them. “This is nice. I like this.”

“Yeah,” Steve said and couldn’t help but return Tony’s smile. “I like it, too.” 

“Then maybe you won’t mind if I do this,” Tony said and leaned forward. He paused as if to allow Steve to back away. When Steve stayed put, Tony inched further and then pressed his lips against Steve’s mouth. At first the kiss did nothing, the music sputtered between them. He’d never been kissed before, and he felt at a loss. The mechanics were there, his mouth opened, softened, showed willingness and receptiveness. His body juddered though, and he felt the tension leak through the music. It became jarring and weaker, but then Tony did something that eased the tension. He slipped his hand along Steve’s jaw, parted for a moment and whispered, “It’s all right, I’m right here.”

For some reason, it was all that Steve needed and the music flourished as their souls’ energies entangled. He allowed the strings of his soul to weave through Tony’s brass tones. It felt perfect and right, and he knew in that instance they would be lovers, partners, and not just friends.

When they broke, Steve inhaled a shaky breath and his whole body trembled with it. 

“You liked it?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I think I did,” Steve said. “I never, I hope it was okay for you. I never did that before.”

Tony sat back, his fingers moving away from Steve’s face and hands. He grinned and then picked up his bowl. “What? You never kissed a guy before?” He stood to go to the galley kitchen and place his bowl in the sink.

“No,” Steve stopped because confessing hurt and brought up a world that maybe Tony wouldn’t want to know about – where Steve came from and what his life was like before this.

“No, you have kissed a guy, or no you never kissed anyone?”

He cringed but answered anyhow, “That latter?”

“The latter? You haven’t been kissed before?” The bowl clattered in the sink and Tony whipped back to the table in an instant. “We need to remedy that right away. You and me, we’ll kiss and I’ll teach you.”

Steve gazed up at Tony as he stood over him at the table. “You’re cute when you’re excited. You know that?”

“Well, you should see me in lab, it’s gets very exciting there.”

“You mean that little rathole you showed me your powers in?” Steve asked. 

Tony grabbed his lunch bag and knocked Steve in the shoulder. “Get your lunch, Rhodey is meeting me soon and I have to get to class.”

“So, we can both walk you to class?” Steve asked and he didn’t know why his heart was pounding in his ears.

“Sure, slugger, you can walk me to class,” Tony said.

Getting to know Tony was akin to learning about the sun. If he looked too closely he would get burned. Tony would lash out, or grow too hot to handle. In many ways, Steve discovered what it might be like to be a scientist. He tested and checked every action and reaction with Tony. He enjoyed it, all the time because Tony was unpredictable and at the same time so self-defining that he bewildered Steve. He could never pinned down exactly who Tony was. 

“I think he strives to be someone different, new all the time,” Steve said while having lunch in the Student Union with Bucky and Peggy. It had been one of the few times that Bucky and Peggy were free of their soulmates. Bucky hung around Natasha’s heels like a dog and he kind of sickened Steve to see Bucky so desperate to impress her. Yet, he didn’t worry about it, because Natasha with all her airs and arrogance always treated Bucky with respect and kindness. It surprised everyone around the campus. 

For Peggy things had been a wild ride. She never expected Sam Wilson to be her soulmate. After all the years they’d known one another – they had never touched until the party. It was seen as poor manners to touch someone to just figure out their song. Sometimes like what happened between Peggy and Steve the songs would try and coalesce and it ended up conflicting noise and a cacophony of strains combating one another. Only because Peggy had always been so cool and collected about it, did it work out and ending with their positive relationship. 

Peggy still hadn’t confessed how they finally ended up touching, but she had been swept away – which tickled Steve to no end. Knowing that his best friends were together caused an unnatural thrill and happiness. 

“Still can’t believe you are with Stark. Don’t get me wrong, Stevie, I’m glad the doctors were all wrong about you, but Stark. That’s like the seventh level of hell.”

“I wish you wouldn’t say that,” Steve hissed. “He’s my soulmate and I like him, a lot.”

“A lot, he says, now we’re getting to the interesting part,” Peggy said and stole some of Bucky’s fries. 

Bucky growled at her and then pointed at Steve. “Well, tell us. You got it bad, don’t you?”

“I don’t think I should share-.” Steve said and pulled his apple out of his bag. “I need to get back to the apartment anyhow. I need to work on my sketches.”

“You need to sit down and tell us all about your soulmate and why you think anyone wouldn’t notice.” Peggy smirked at him, waiting for him to realize that he’d been captured by her and there was no escaping. Peggy was like that – he wouldn’t get free of her.

He couldn’t keep a secret, not with his physical transformation. He tried, sure, but that didn’t work out. Eventually he had to go to class and the professors and other students caused a fuss. It was better now but he turned heads wherever he went. It was disconcerting at times.

“Well, I had some doubts but Tony’s great,” Steve said and wanted to say – more than great. He swallowed down those words. They prickled in his throat as if he ate a thorny bush. He should be free about his emotions, but there was always that fear that this was just his fevered dreams. “Really, he is.” His voice lost some of its forcefulness. He wanted to express how very important Tony had become in his life.

Peggy seemed to read him and said, “Well, anyhow, where’d you get the new wardrobe?”

Bucky on the other hand had it out for him for trying to hide everything. “Stark buy it all for you?”

“Does this really look like designer clothes?” Because it wasn’t. Steve stopped at the consignment shop off campus as well as the Good Will to see what he could find. He’d been lucky to find some nice shirts and a couple of pairs of jeans. Shoes were his biggest problem. But he was dealing. He’d found a pair of work boots that weren’t too badly worn and they suited him well enough. 

Bucky deflated and shrugged. “I just figured.”

“I’m not in it for the money, Bucky. You should know that.”

“Yeah, I do, and that’s why I worry about you.”

Steve stood up and gathered up his garbage, throwing the apple core into the paper bag. “Thanks for worrying about me, Buck, but like you and Natasha, I think that Tony and I are going to figure this thing out.”

Peggy smiled at that and said, “I’m really happy for you, we both are. Aren’t we James?”

“Yes, yeah sure, very happy. Elated,” Bucky agreed and Steve laughed with them for once.

“Sure, I gotta go.” They let him leave then. He trashed his garbage and hiked across campus to pick up the latest assignments from the Office of Admissions. He’d picked up some work designing new information for potential students. He got all the documents and then did the paperwork to get paid. 

Once he tucked everything into his secondhand messenger bag, he ended up leaving campus and heading back to the apartment. He had a good three hours before he had to pick up Tony from his lab, so all should be good. He hadn’t heard anything from Tony’s friends. That meant everyone was still keeping an eye on him. He crossed the street and left campus. Stuffing his hands in his pockets against the chill of the early winter, Steve bent against the wind and walked toward home.

Right before he got to his walk up – they converged on him. A band of a dozen men, not students, but men in dark suits with sunglasses on encircled him and bullied him into the narrow driveway adjacent to the rental house. One of the largest men shoved him against the wall and said, “We know what you’re doing and we are giving you fair warning to stop.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about fella,” Steve said.

“No? Well, let me remind you.” A fist to his stomach took Steve’s breath away and he would have crumpled to the puddles beneath him but two of the men stepped up and caught him before he managed to collapse. “Straighten up.”

The men hauled him to his feet and then the same man punched him square in the face. It knocked back Steve’s head hard enough to slam against the brick of the building. Brilliant white pain flashed across his vision, and he grunted against it.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve muttered.

“Oh you want more?”

Steve laughed with no joy. “Oh, I could do this all day.”

“Oh, so that’s a yes,” the man said and pulled back to ram his fist into Steve’s gut again, except this time Steve was ready. He twisted his arms and swung them together fast enough to jolt the two men off of him. His assailants went into defensive mode and circled him. They weren’t going to wait it out, they weren’t going to stop.

Steve readied himself, fists up. “Before we get started, does anyone want to leave?”

One man charged and went to beat Steve with a bully club. Steve kicked out and managed to throw him off. Another man attacked from behind but Steve caught his wrist from above and flipped him up and over his head; he struck the ground with a sickening crack. Two of his attackers jumped at him but he managed to swing around and thwart them with an upper cut followed by a quick jab to the throat. As the next group came at him they backed him into the back of the driveway, near a chain linked fence. He wouldn’t be able to fight them all off, not if he couldn’t find a means to escape.

Scrambling he leapt for the fence and then spun around and pounded his booted feet into heads and guts of anyone who dared to follow him. Hanging from the fence he smashed and thrust at the men as they rushed him. One lucky punch to his gut caused him to lose his grip and he ended up letting go of the fence. His last reprieve gone, the remaining goons blocked any possible hope for escape. With the fence at his back, Steve attempted to get up but one of the men kicked out and caught his jaw. He dropped to the dirty ground, his face and hands wet with muck. The pounding they had already given him ached but he needed to focus, to get out of here. What was the point of having transformed if people could still beat him to death?

“Stay down,” one of the men warned. “Stay down and we’ll tell Mister Stark you understand.” Another kick of the head and Steve considered laying low, giving up. “Stay down, and you’re coming with us, no questions. Tony Stark belongs to Mister Stark, not you.”

The words seared a burning trail of anger through Steve, so hot, so terrible in its magnificence, he lost all control. He climbed up, to his knees, to his feet even as the men warned him. He listened to none of them when he raised his hands and said, “I don’t give up, I never give up. And you can tell Mister Stark, Tony belongs to no one.” He growled out the last words and then all of the power stored in his muscles culminated and blasted out of him like a shock wave or shield bursting forth and throwing his attackers into the air and out of the alley. They landed with a loud and horrible thump in the street as cars screeched to a halt to avoid hitting them. Steve didn’t wait to find out what happened, instead he collected his bag, jumped the fence and raced around the block toward the campus. 

If they had come after him, Tony had to be next. As he ran, he dug out his phone and punched in the number. Tony didn’t answer. He cursed, but he quickly redialed.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah? What’s up you sound out of breath? Are you having an asthma attack? I thought you didn’t get them any-.”

“Stop, shut up. I need you to go and find Tony, right now, right away.” He hurried across the street and onto the campus.

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Just go – Natasha or Peggy or someone will know where to find him. Please, go. And Bucky, be careful. Have someone call the police.” Getting across campus, he took a shortcut and dashed through buildings. He bumped and fumbled his way through the corridors, hoping that he would make it there on time. 

As he entered the Physical Science building, he scanned the area to see if anything looked out of place. Nothing did. Everything seemed perfectly serene – in fact it looked too perfect. 

“Damn it,” Steve cursed and headed toward the main laboratories where he knew Tony acted as an Instructor. He opened doors to find empty classrooms, barren laboratories with flasks bubbling and brewing on open flame Bunsen burners. He continued down the hallway and took the stairs two at a time. When he got to the second floor, he skidded to a stop. 

Before him, several men – much like the ones he just confronted – had Tony on his knees in the middle of the hallway. Standing over him as if he were a king in judgement of his lowly servant was the famous Howard Stark. Steve knew him, everyone knew Howard Stark.

At Howard’s mercy, Tony looked as if someone had more than roughed him up. His shirt had been torn open and the pulsing light revealed. He had something heavy like an anvil connected to his neck with a heavy chain. His arms were behind his back and Steve could only assumed he was bound. 

“Tony,” Steve said and Howard spun on his heel to greet Steve.

“Oh, I’ve been waiting for you. I understand you’re a poverty stricken artist. How quaint. A Cinderella story,” Howard said as another man - as old as Howard – with a thick beard and a balding head narrowed his eyes on Steve. “You see, Obie, I told you he would show up.”

When Steve shifted his attention to Obie he spotted the Glock clutched in his hand. The man pointed it at Tony’s head. “You’ll come with us.”

Steve raised his hands and took a few hesitant steps toward the group. He counted five henchmen plus Howard and Obie. How they cleared out the building he left as a mystery for another time. He knew Bucky – at the very least – would be on his way. All he had to do was stall. And find out what the hell they’d done to Tony. 

“No need for guns,” Steve said.

“I would say there was. According to my sources you have much more power than just a simple physical transformation. Is that correct, Cinderella?” Howard asked as he conjured a ball of blue fire in his hand. Tony stiffened when he saw the blue flames as if he knew too well what it meant, how it could harm. “Should we test it out?” He flung the ball at Steve. Throwing up his arms, Steve crouched down and a transparent energy shield burst forth. The ball of blue flame collided with the shield and erupted into a brilliant electrical display. It sizzled out, leaving Steve to glimpse the smirk on Howard’s face.

“Predictable isn’t it, Obie.” Howard nodded to one of his henchman. The man pulled out another chain similar to the one that collared Tony. “Cinderella’s going to follow the rules aren’t you?”

“Why should I? I know you won’t shoot Tony,” Steve said. 

Obie gave Steve a snicker and then swung the gun around and fired at the henchman closest to him. The man dropped instantly, a bullet to his skull.

Steve gasped. His body shaking, he said, “You can’t possibly believe you can get away with that? You can’t possibly-.”

“Who is to say we haven’t already? Money talks, Cinderella. Tony can tell you all about that. Kidnapped for three months and not even the FBI has arrested anyone.” 

The blood, the red blood, spread out over the tiled floor. The red pulsed, a living thing leeching out of the man’s ruined skull. The exit wound spilled brain matter on the floor along with the blood. 

“Now, you’re going to be nice and you’re going to listen to me,” Howard said. “You’re going to come quietly. You’re going to not resist.” He gestured for the man to chain Steve. “You’ll find that the chain has a special property. It’s made of a special metal that inhibits the Soulsong, you won’t be able to hear it, you won’t be able to access your powers.” He glanced up and down at Steve, sneered, and added, “Don’t know what will happen to your physical transformation.” 

It made perfect sense. Howard Stark created and manufactured weapons for the military. Of course he would develop a material that would subjugated the most powerful, the most talent individuals of their enemy. Steve didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before, or the fact that it had never hit mass media. It must be a secret. 

He stepped backward as the men closed in on him.

“Do you want another round of Russian Roulette?” Howard said. “Please, Cinderellla, we need you to continue to enhance my dear son’s abilities. The more you are around him, the more his talent will grow. You will be the source of all of his power and he will be the source of all of mine. It works out well. Don’t you see?” Howard turned away from his son and turned his full attention to Steve. “This is the best you can hope for now.”

Steve weighed the possibilities, but he didn’t have the time to figure it out – he needed action. He raised his hands as if he waited to be cuffed and, as soon as the men were close enough, Steve unleashed the defensive shield. The emotions driving it rammed through him like a freight train of anxiety and need. It crushed him, but he held on. Everyone within a two meter distance from Steve felt the shock wave. It rippled through the air and, like a concussive force of an explosive, caused everyone to fly off their feet and to the floor. 

During their stunned reaction, Steve raced over to Tony’s side. Tony lay crumpled on the floor, his eyes sunken, his body trembling from the thing around his neck. Steve went to touch it, and he hissed, jerking his hand away. It felt cold, like dry ice. It burned it was so cold. Now, that Steve knelt over Tony, he spotted the red scorch marks on his neck.

“Damn it,” Steve said.

“You will need this, I’m afraid,” Howard said and opened his hands.

It made no sense but that’s when Tony shuttered his eyes, tears leaking out, and whispered to Steve, “His fingerprint, only thing that will open it.”

“Then I’ll get his finger,” Steve said and stood up. The blue flames appeared in Howard’s palms. Obie stood up, wobbling on his legs. The other men took even longer to recover. Steve needed to get Tony out of here, even if it meant carrying him with that damned thing around his neck. “You’re going to open up this collar and you’re going to let us go.”

“What makes you think I would do that?” Howard said. “I’ve come to retrieve my son. And you a deranged madman bent on forcing your will on him, attacked us. One of my men died in the process. It looks like you’ll be charged with murder.”

“Fucker,” Tony murmured but shuddered as the pain strummed through him.

Steve placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder for a moment, and then straightened to his feet. “I don’t think you’ll be doing that.” He didn’t look at Howard, he gazed beyond him, down the hallway where his friends had arrived but had stayed blessedly silent. “You shot your own man, you’re trying to kidnap and torture your own son, again. The fact that I can say again is sick. You do realize that you’re a demented sick man, right?”

“Haven’t you heard about power, Cinderellla? Haven’t you heard that it corrupts?” Howard laughed but it crackled the air like frigid temperatures.

Some did go insane under the weight of their powers, most did not. Those strongest in their powers were known to be most at risk. For a moment, Steve glanced at Tony – his power had to be one of the most powerful. Howard wanted it, wanted to corrode Tony, and model Tony in his own image. 

“Now, be a good boy, let my men take you and this will be finished.”

Steve eyed Bucky, Natasha, Sam, and Peggy. Behind them there were police officers. He cleared his throat and said, “You want me to come with you, fine. I’ll come. As long as I hear it from you exactly what you intend to do.”

Howard snickered and then shook his head. “You want to hear that I’m going to experiments on my own son while I hold you as his source of power? You want to hear all the details how I will vivisect him over and again until I find out how his power works. Do you want to know that I believe it is possible for me to remove the power from him and consume it? Do you want to know that once I find out what’s inside of him, I intend to devour my own son? Like the gods before me?”

“Those were the mad Titans, not the gods, sir,” Steve said and thrust his hands out, forming a protective shield around Tony and himself. “You are at an end, sir.”

The police rushed forward causing a chaos of motion to explode in the hallway. Steve wasn’t sure at all what happened next, because his friends swung into action along with their soulmates. The sizzle of light and smell of magic hung in the hallway. Lightning cracked the air, gunfire burst and flashed. Steve grabbed Tony in a fireman’s carry and dashed away from the fray. The metal of the chain seared against Steve’s flesh but he never faltered. Searching for a safe haven, he shouldered an empty lab door open and skidded to a stop. He hitched a breath because the pain of the chain only intensified the longer it contacted bare skin. He needed to get that chain off of Tony.

Laying him down on the floor of the lab, Steve noticed he’d fallen unconscious. Somehow that was both distressing and calming. He was glad that Tony didn’t have to suffer the pain anymore, but at the same time he worried that his unconscious state signaled a worse outcome. He examined the collar without touching it, saw the locking mechanism, but since he didn’t have Howard’s finger there wasn’t anything he could do with that. 

Tony heaved in a breath, struggling through throat contractions that were physically visible. The spasms tightened his muscles in his throat and he opened his mouth to fight for breath. 

“Tony? Tony?” He needed to get that damaged thing off, now.

Tony opened his eyes and smiled weakly. He grappled, seeking something until Steve realized it was his hand. They touched and the music played in quiet tones with minor chords. 

“No, Tony, no,” Steve said and tears ran freely down his face. He’d only just found Tony, he’d only just started to get to know Tony. They’d only shared a single kiss. 

Tony focused on Steve, his eyes wide, the whites showing, stark and terrified. He worked his mouth open and closed as if to speak final words, as if to grasp that final breath. 

“I’m sorry, Tony, I’m so sorry,” Steve said and even with these muscles, these new muscles, he was impotent to save his soulmate. He watched his mother die as a weak boy beside her bed. Now, as a strong man, he knelt at the side of his soulmate, his partner, to experience death again. His soul strummed, his heart pounded in his chest with wild beats. He screamed out and grabbed a hold of the collar around Tony’s neck. The metal charred his hands but he twisted and wrenched at the device. He wouldn’t let go, he’d never let go. This was not happening, Tony wasn’t going to die. Not now, not when they had their entire lives set out like a beckoning path of hope and promise.

“Tony,” Steve cried. Tony’s lips colored blue and a mere whisper of a sound came out of him. 

Steve yanked at the collar, but it would not give. He could barely get his fingers between it and Tony’s neck. But it wasn’t how tight the collar around Tony’s neck, but the effects of the metal on his skin. Even as he worked to loosen the cursed thing, the stench of his own fingers burning against the metal filled his nostrils and nearly made him retch. But he would not give up.

Under him, Tony stopped laboring, stopped trying. Almost becoming peaceful, Tony met his gaze and silently dropped away. His eyes closing, his lips slightly parted, his body giving one last shudder for breath and then silencing his struggles.

“No, no, no,” Steve said and his heart, his soul felt as if something seized it and snatch it. It felt as if he shattered to a million pieces and those pieces scattered, lost and forgotten. “No, Tony, please, please stay.”

He clutched Tony to his chest and rocked him. They’d only just gotten to know one another. Tony was only eighteen, only a brilliant, beautiful kid with so much potential. Steve couldn’t protect him, Steve – who believed down to his bones that his sole purpose in this life had been to protect Tony – he’d failed. 

A delicate hand on his shoulder tugged him away from his grief, if only momentarily. “Steve, Steve, come now, let me.”

Behind him Peggy offered her support as did all of his friends. “Let me help, Steve.”

“You can’t, you can’t. It needs Howard Stark’s fingerprint.” Steve said. “It’s killed him.” Steve gulped for breath but barely took any in. His hands throbbed, his body shivered against the loss.

“I can help you,” Peggy said.

“Did they get Howard?” he asked.

“I’m afraid not, Champ,” Sam said. “They are in pursuit.”

So, it didn’t matter, nothing mattered now. His soulmate broken in his arms. 

“Come now,” Peggy said and with more force than he believed possible, pushed him away from Tony. “Let me.” He backed away if only to show her the truth of the matter; that Tony was dead and there was nothing anyone could do about it. “You said, Howard?”

“Yes, Howard Stark.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I shook his hand once long ago,” Peggy said. She reached over to the collar and, as she did, her skin, her form changed. She transformed before him to a doppelganger of Howard Stark. “Hope this works.” She touched the fingerprint interface. For a long moment he thought it hadn’t worked, but then the collar popped open and released its prey. Steve tore it away, ripping it from Tony’s neck but being careful not to injury him. Throwing it to the side, Steve laid Tony down as Sam and Peggy (now as herself again) hovered over them. 

“Tony?” Steve said and felt for a pulse. He imagined something, but his hands throbbed in pain and he couldn’t discriminate the feelings. “I can’t feel anything. I don’t know.”

“Let me,” Sam said and he touched Tony on the throat just as the paramedics entered the laboratory. 

Hhis mind fragmented as he watched the paramedics pushed Sam aside and work on Tony. The pain in his hands meant nothing while he observed the life saving techniques the two emergency personnel administered to Tony. Eventually, Peggy, Bucky, and Sam moved him away. He only protested but couldn’t get them to leave him alone. One of them or maybe it was Natasha when she entered the lab noticed his ravaged hands and called for another EMT. He didn’t much care, but his head swam with fear and nausea. The next thing he knew they were putting him on a gurney and transporting him to the hospital. 

This time he did protest, wanting to be near Tony, wanting to know what happened to Tony. One of the paramedics, an older man with thick glasses and dark hair told him to quiet.

“You need to save your strength. He’s going to need you to care for him.”

“He’s alive? He’s okay?”

The man patted Steve’s shoulder. “He’s alive, but whatever that metal was it poisoned him. You have to understand he’ll need the comfort of your soul to heal.”

Steve nodded, not understanding everything. He would be there for Tony, no matter what.

Within the next day, Steve discovered that part of his transformation also included an unnatural ability to heal. His hands had been categorized with second degree burns when he arrived at the hospital. By the next day the doctors and nurses were gawking at him, poking and prodding him for blood samples in order to figure it out. He was very nearly healed.

He didn’t much care, all he focused on was Tony – who lie in the hospital bed, intubated and deathly pale. Luckily there were security guards posted at the door, trusted ones that Pepper hired. One was named Happy Hogan and was a stickler about every rule and procedure. Steve sat in the chair and waited for Tony to wake up, waited for his heart to stop the crazy beat, waited to be able to breathe again. The doctors told him the intubation was a precaution because of the poisonous substance the metal had released in Tony’s body. They also mentioned that he would need time for recovery – a long time. They didn’t say when or if he would wake up.

Eventually, Peggy and Bucky dragged him away from the room and to the hospital café. 

“It’s only been a day,” Peggy said as she placed a tray of food in front of him. He only pushed it away. The sandwich and chocolate milk made him sick to his stomach. “Eat.”

He shook his head. “I can’t. All I can think of is how – how could someone do that to their own son? That’s Howard Stark’s son. He did that to Tony. Do you know he was responsible for kidnapping Tony and torturing him? The only reason Tony was released was because he was working on weapons for them again.”

“I told you Howard was a dick,” Peggy said. She tapped his tray. “Eat, Tony needs you strong.”

“He does, pal, eat,” Bucky said.

He fingered the sandwich, not entirely convinced that he wanted to even bite into it. Peggy glared at him and Bucky joined in so Steve picked up the sandwich and began to eat. It tasted like cardboard and he gagged a little as he tried to swallow.

They wanted to talk about what happened, they wanted to know what kind of evil monster Howard was, but Steve wanted to bury it, like hiding a corpse under the ground. “So, you shapeshift?” 

Peggy smiled. “Seems I can only do it if I’ve touched a person before. Lucky me.”

“That’s an interesting talent.”

“A little confusing at first. When I woke up with Sam and he screamed it put damper on the afterglow,.”

“Why’d he scream?” Bucky asked

“Apparently, my power sometimes likes to switch on without my knowledge. Sam woke up next to himself. It was very disconcerting.”

“I’d say,” Bucky said and then his eyes got wide. “Think of all the fun stuff you can do-.”

Steve kicked Bucky under the table. Over his yelp, Steve said, “Don’t go there, Buck.”

Peggy tried for indignation but then her cheeks flushed rosy red and she said, “Truly can you imagine?”

They all burst out laughing and Steve felt something release, like a pipe bursting after freezing. A wave overcame him and he couldn’t stop, even after Peggy and Bucky had quieted. He continued a hysterical laugh, and he knew it was wrong and felt out of joint, broken. Until he started to cry. 

“Oh, Steven,” Peggy said and gathered him in her arms. “He’s going to be okay.”

“I just-.” He heaved in a breath. He wasn’t a crier. He never cried. He held it in and kept his emotions tied and knotted inside. He breathed several times, in and out, trying to calm himself. His attempt at talking only made it worse, so he stopped and let the moments drag on. Once he steadied himself, he managed to speak again. “We just started to know one another. And I had thought all these wrong things about him, prejudged him. But he isn’t that way at all. He’s kind and smart and sexy.”

Bucky chuckled but Peggy gave him an irritated look at she petted Steve’s hair. “Go on.”

“No, there’s not much more,” Steve said. “I felt him slipping away and I didn’t want him to go. I felt my soul stripped apart and I didn’t know if I could glue it back together again. We’d only just started.”

“That’s a good place to start, then again, don’t you think?” Peggy said.

“Seems like you don’t got a lot of baggage, Steve, seems like you got a good foundation to start a relationship.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Steve said and sniffled. He eyed both of them. “Do you mind if I not eat. It’s kind of making me sick.”

Bucky pulled the tray away and set it to the side. “But tomorrow, you eat.”

“Okay, I’m going back to Tony’s room.”

As he got up to leave, Peggy caught his arm and said, “You’re not alone.”

“Thanks,” he replied and smiled.

“’Til the end of the line,” Bucky said and raised Steve’s sandwich in toast. 

“Or at least until the end of the sandwich,” Steve joked and Bucky smiled back at him.

“All the way, Stevie, all the way.”

Steve nodded and walked back to Tony’s room. He had his friends and Tony – they were his family. He would be okay, so would Tony – Steve now knew that to the hollow of his bones. He was placed here on this Earth to protect Tony – with his brilliance and his power. His friends would be there for him. He still needed to learn about their powers, if they discovered them yet. He had only begun to learn about his own powers. He stared down at his hands. His hands protected and shielded – that’s what this body and soul were made to do. 

As he approached Tony’s room he saw a ruckus and rushed to find out what was happening. The nurse quelled his fears. Tony was going to be okay – he’d woken up – they were removing the breathing apparatus. After only a few minutes he was allowed back into the room.

The bed was propped up, a mountain of pillows and blankets surrounded Tony. He looked small and vulnerable but the light in his chest shined brighter and stronger as he laid eyes on Steve. Tony lifted a hand and Steve crossed the room at light speed. 

“You’re back,” Steve said and couldn’t figure out what or where to look. He wanted to see all of Tony, drink him all in, because Tony was alive, Tony would be okay. 

“Didn’t go anywhere,” Tony rasped. He raised his hand and with a finger wiped away the single tear from Steve’s cheek.

They touched then, touched and their Soulsong surged between them - a great symphony of sound and music, the pulse of their lives, their souls together. For a long moment, Steve gazed at their entwined hands. He knew he would never let go, not ever. Their song had only begun, their souls had only knitted together to create a new weaving of their lives together. 

This time, it was Steve who leaned in and Tony who accepted the tentative kiss. It opened up a world of possibilities and cemented a new found faith in one another. Their Soulsong strummed higher, brighter, and more glorious. He parted from Tony but held on, held on tight, because this began their tomorrow.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> So this is what happens when I sit down and decide to completely free write whatever comes into my head. No thought, no plotline - nothing. Hope you enjoyed it. Tell me if you did! Not beta edited.
> 
> Oh and I have been playing Avengers Academy a little too much....
> 
> If you're interested in following me - check out my [tumblr](http://winterstar95.tumblr.com)
> 
> Sits back and hopes you liked it....did you?????


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